


Lost and Found

by eerieforest



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Attempt at Humor, BAMF Keith (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Zombie Apocalypse, actually everyone in this fic is gonna be bamfs okay, ill tag as i go - Freeform, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerieforest/pseuds/eerieforest
Summary: When the world erupts into chaos and the population whisks away in what seems like the end of the earth, four students find themselves locked inside a classroom on campus. Scared and confused, they stick together on a journey with one goal: surviving. The world has become cold and harsh, but somewhere along the way, perhaps there are cracks in the concrete for love to blossom.AKA the zombie apocalypse AU no one asked for, that I'm writing anyway.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	1. Guns Blazing

**Author's Note:**

> Owo? What's this? A generic, self-indulgent apocalypse au? Maybe so. 
> 
> Having fulfilled my desire of a klance vampire au by writing WDYTM?, I'm ready to move on to a different - yet similar - area... ZOMBIES. Now I love apocalypse games, tv shows and movies, and I'm sure this is literally the last thing anyone wants during an actual pandemic, but I'm making this anyway because I want to ;) 
> 
> I would also like to say that I absolutely know nothing about american geography but the story is set in the US so I'm trying to make an effort 😬 But please, call me out on mistakes! (of all kinds, lol)
> 
> Whether you're new here or have stuck around for a while, I hope you'll enjoy this fic! Happy reading <3 
> 
> (also I have no idea where the line goes between teen and mature ratings, so the rating may change. If someone feels the content def is more mature, let me know!)

Nock. Draw. Release.

Nock. Draw. Release.

Retrieve.

Nock. Draw. Release.

Retrieve.

It had become a rhythmic dance at this point. Whenever Lance heard rustling in the bushes and wheezing groans coming closer, he had an arrow nocked and ready for the dangers lurking in the woods. Thank god for his boyhood crush on Orlando Bloom in Lord of The Rings that sparked his interest for archery. He could singlehandedly thank mr. Bloom for keeping him alive until now. Although, with the world having abruptly stopped spinning and instead erupted into complete chaos, Lance doubted he was even alive to appreciate the thanks.

For all Lance knew, nearly the entire planet's population was dead. 

A year ago, Lance had been sitting in class, struggling to pay attention to the professor. Biology was fucking hard. Lance didn't know what compelled him to even try going for it. Truthfully, before the world he knew ended, Lance didn't know what he was doing or where he was going. Ah, the sweet, excruciatingly confusing start of adulthood. 

Now, those sort of issues were non-existent. Now it was all about survival.

Anyway, Lance hoped that somehow if he managed to master biology, by God's good graces he'd perhaps end up in the marine biology field. Sadly, the days of ambitious dreams were over. 

Lance remembered that Friday in class vividly. Also known as the day hell broke loose. In fact, Lance could pinpoint the exact moment hell came to Garrison University. Lance and some of his study-buddies were discussing going to a party that weekend during a short break, when suddenly someone in the lecture hall started yelling.

"People are going batshit crazy!" 

A news livestream was playing on his laptop. People gathered around him gasping at what they saw, and then others also started yelling out strange things. 

"What the fuck?! They're eating people?" 

Lance opened up Twitter on his phone, and started scrolling. His feed was filled with urgent, chaotic tweets. Before watching a video, a particular tweet stood out to him. 

"This is it. Armageddon has come. The human race has failed. #endoftheworld2020" 

The next thing Lance saw, was a video of a crowd screaming and running, followed by a mass of humans who were... Not quite human. Their eyes were milky white. They moved weirdly, but quickly. They growled and shrieked. And their skin had been torn to shreds in some places. The flesh hung off of them like baggy clothes. Some even lacked a few limbs. 

While this was happening, Lance felt like he was in a hazy dream, or watching the premiere of some unoriginal thriller series. 

After, Lance could not forget that day no matter how hard he tried.

Students were calling their parents, friends, lovers and Lance even overheard a girl calling her therapist. In hindsight, it was a little comedic. Nothing about that day had been funny, but as Lance was sitting on the porch, bow in hand, simply waiting for the day death caught up to him, he allowed himself to smile at the thought. 

Because what the fuck was the point of surviving the apocalypse if you couldn't laugh about it a little bit? 

Lance had tried calling his parents. No answer. Instead of thinking the worst, he assumed they were in the barn or working. They never had their phones on them, technology was not their strong suit.

Maybe this thing wasn't happening in California. Maybe it was just the east coast. Maybe even just Boston. 

So Lance rang his siblings. Luis and Marco didn't answer, neither did Rachel. But Veronica did. And immediately, Lance heard her panting. 

"Lance?! Are you safe?" She was out of breath, yet her voice was commanding and strong.

It was just like Veronica to stay calm during the end of the world. 

Of course Lance immediately started crying. "What's happening? I can't reach mom and dad, or the others-" He let out a choked whine. 

"Lance, stay calm. Where are you?" Veronica asked. 

"C-campus. In class." 

"Listen. You need to stay safe, there's something going around that makes people go insane-" Veronica let out a sharp breath. She was running again. 

"Barricade yourselves in, if someone crazy is after you then run!" 

No matter how strong Veronica seemed to be, Lance did not miss the desperation of her voice.

"I have to go, I'm sorry. We'll talk soon. I love you."

Veronica hung up. 

And that was the last time Lance spoke to her, or anyone else in his family. 

Lance still didn't know if anyone in his family was still alive. 

Part of him thought it would be easier for him to assume they were not. Because what were the chances really? 

All the big cities had been hit hard. Veronica was in New York. His family's farm in California was remote and probably safer but even then... The disease had lit the entire world on fire. The odds of Lance surviving so long had been so god damn slim, they weren't there, yet here he was. Sitting on the fucking porch. Trying to shoot straight despite the dark distorting his vision. 

Lance checked the watch on his wrist. It was almost three. He was supposed to wake up Hunk in five minutes to take over for him. Nah, he could wait a bit longer, let Hunk sleep. Lance wasn't too tired. 

Yet, the door creaked behind him. But it wasn't Hunk. 

"Hey man. Couldn't sleep?" 

Keith shrugged. 

"I'm restless. I can take over, if you want," he offered. 

"No, it's fine... You can keep me company though. It's been sort of quiet tonight," Lance said, and looked at the lifeless Spreader that he had shot earlier. Well, it was quieter than usual. 

Keith smirked. "You shootin' straight?" 

You wouldn't think Keith was from Texas by first impressions, but sometimes the southern accent jumped out, and it always made Lance smile. 

"As straight as I can..."

"So... You haven't shot anything," Keith said amused, the joke double-layered. As with most things Keith said, Lance didn't know whether to be offended or laugh. 

"Oh, you mean other than you through the heart?" Lance said, batting his eyelashes obnoxiously. Keith groaned. 

It hadn't always been so comfortable like this between them. In the start, the only banter between them was hostile. 

Back on campus, things had started to stir. On top of all the students being scared and confused, danger finally reached them. Lance's professor was freaking out. He tried to order everyone to stay put, but it was obvious he had no idea what to do. Soon, screams were heard. Terrifying screams of pain and fright. Some immediately bolted from the lecture hall. Lance thought back to what Veronica said, and he tried to barricade the doors. But it was too late.

One of the crazy fuckers had already entered. He was snarling, mouth bloody and his throat was ripped open. Somewhere underneath the milky eyes and fresh blood, Lance thought he saw something familiar. Maybe a student he had seen walking around on campus. 

By then, hell definitely broke loose. A girl immediately got attacked. Her screams were so painful it took months before Lance stopped dreaming about it. It was the first time Lance had seen someone die. One of Lance's friends, Connor, started running towards the girl, and Lance desperately tried stopping him. The zombie stopped lapping up fleshy pools of blood from the girl, and set his attention to Connor next. 

The first spray of blood hit Lance right in the face. It was so warm. And sticky. And it smelled. Some of it got in his mouth. Tasted metallic. 

It took every cell in his body to force himself to move. Within minutes, the lecture hall was filled with zombies, some unknown and some were Lance's classmates. 

So he ran. 

Campus was a fucking mess. The smartest thing to do would be to leave, but Lance couldn't do that yet. His body was on autopilot while his mind was fried, and he ran through the hallways looking for his two closest friends, Pidge and Hunk. He knew where their classes were, and soon he was outside one of the computer labs. Looking through the window, it looked empty.

“Seriously?!” Lance muttered to himself. He pushed against the door, and it moved slightly, just an inch. Something was in the way. 

“Pidge! Hunk!” He yelled, and started banging on the door. “Is there anyone there?!” 

Lance tip-toed, and looked downwards. There was definitely something in front of the door, a chair or box or something. 

Lance kept hammering on the door. “Hellooooo?!” 

Something moved inside. A head of black hair peeked out of a doorway.

Oh thank  _ fuck- _

The relief was short lived.

To his right, Lance started hearing snarling and grunting that was becoming louder. Lance looked up, and one of those zombie creatures were coming towards him. 

_ Oh, FUCK! _

“Dude! LET ME IN!” Lance started yelling, and impatiently pushed against the door.

The guy inside was looking at him, frowning. 

“Fucking help me!” Lance screamed. 

The zombie was coming closer. 

_ Was the guy gonna let him fucking die out there?! _

He - He had to run, the zombie was so goddamn close now, so Lance turned around, and- 

Whaddya know. 

Zombie had a buddy. 

Lance was freaking out, and started to mutter a ridiculous prayer even though he had never prayed in his entire life, and then he heard a rattling noise coming from the door, and it was opened. 

“Get in!” The blackhaired dude yelled, and Lance did not waste a single second. 

As soon as he was inside, the guy shut the door, and pushed a chair in front of it, followed by a desk. 

The zombies were already banging at the door. 

The guy was pushing another desk towards it, when he stopped for a minute and looked at Lance. 

“A little help, maybe?!” he complained.

Lance went over and helped him push it. If that barricade didn’t hold then… Then they would be fucked. Completely, utterly fucked. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Lance muttered, and felt his heart hammer in his chest. His veins were filled with adrenaline. 

Connor- Connor had fucking  _ died!  _

Lance sank to the floor. He could feel the dude looking at him. 

“You were gonna let me fucking die-” Lance started, but was cut off. 

“I helped you in, didn’t I?!” Blackhaired dude spat back. “How was I supposed to know you weren’t one of the crazies?!”

Lance scoffed. “Common sense, perhaps?!” 

_ Who the fuck was this obnoxious dude anyway?! _

“Keith, what is happening?” a voice asked, coming through the doorway. 

A familiar voice. 

Pidge came into his view. 

“Lance!” 

Lance sighed in relief. “Ohmygod, I thought you were dead or something - Where’s Hunk?” 

Before Lance had asked the question, Hunk walked into the room. Once he set his eyes on Lance, he ran to him and wrapped him in a hug. 

“Lance! Are you hurt?”

Lance could only shake his head during the tight hug. 

“What the hell is going on,” Hunk mumbled, after letting go of Lance. “Everything is going crazy.  _ Everyone  _ is going crazy.” 

“The videos are insane - have you seen them, Lance? People are getting eate-” Pidge started, but Lance held up his hand. 

_ He was gonna puke. _

Oh god, the girl had gotten ripped to shreds, and then Connor- Connor had died,  _ oh god, _ he got his blood in his mouth - 

Hunk quickly got the memo, and got him a trash bin. Once it was between his hands, Lance hunched over it and hurled. 

The others groaned slightly and turned away. 

Lance felt like he was throwing up forever, it reached a point where there was only liquid coming out, and Lance started dry-heaving. 

His head was spinning, and he felt a hand on his back, stroking it rhythmically. 

Hunk was looking at him with concern. 

“Are you okay, Lance?” He asked, quietly. 

Lance shook his head. “N-No. Connor was killed in front of my face,” he blurted out. 

“Wait, what?” Pidge asked.

They had known Connor, not as well as Lance did, but they had hung out together, partied together and played games. 

The atmosphere in the room became heavy and quiet. 

“We were on break, and as soon as we saw the news and started hearing screaming, we barricaded the doors. No one came back, so it’s just us here,” Hunk explained, once Lance had started to calm down. 

He was still in shock, but… Realizing he wasn’t dreaming did not help much. 

“You know Keith, right?” Pidge asked, and gestured to Keith who was standing there awkwardly, as if he would rather be anywhere else than there. 

“I guess I do now,” Lance said flatly. “Funny way of getting to know someone by letting them die-”

Keith inhaled sharply. “I  _ wasn’t _ gonna let you die. Okay? Let it go.” 

_ Oh yeah, sure, let it go, let it all fucking go, it’s so easy to just not mind that there are zombies running around, zombies who were once his fucking friends, eating people’s brains, oh sure, let’s just let it go! _

Lance was nearly fuming at the mouth, but decided to be decent and keep it to himself.

Hunk clapped his hands, and laughed nervously. “Alrighty! Let’s all just take a step back, relax a little, try to figure out what to do and, I dunno, wait for instructions, or… something.”

Keith scoffed. “Instructions. We won’t be hearing a peep from anyone. They’re either dead, about to be dead, zombified, or cowardly idiots. We’re on our own.” 

“Dude, what is your problem?” Lance shouted.  _ Oh my god, this fucking edgelord!  _

“Look, I’m sorry about your friend or whatever, but I’m just being real.” 

_ Was he fucking serious? _

“Classy,” Lance spat. “Real classy.” 

Keith looked like he was ready to explode himself, face already turning red. 

Hunk sighed in defeat. “Guys… Please don’t fight…” 

“I’m not the one who has a bone to pick, I didn’t do shit!” Keith said defensively. 

Lance rolled his eyes. Was he hearing himself?! 

“Yeah, okay,  _ Edgelord, _ look you can be as pessimistic as you want, but maybe keep it to yourself!”

“Oh my god - The world is literally  _ crumbling  _ how can you not be pessimistic-”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Hunk shouted. 

Lance and Keith immediately shut up and looked at him with wide eyes.

Hunk quickly calmed himself down, and let out a forced laugh. “Okay, guys, let’s just shut up for a second. Lance, you should let Keith catch a break, and Keith, maybe ease the negativity. We’re all confused, shocked, and… We need to process things,” Hunk said, glancing at Lance. “So let’s not lose our heads. Okay?” He ended on a fake, sweet note, much in Hunk’s fashion even though Lance knew he was probably losing his mind himself. 

No one spoke against him, and the quiet atmosphere returned. Lance occasionally glared at Keith who glared back at him, but they didn’t exchange another word.

Hunk sat down next to Lance. 

“So… Do you wanna talk about what happened?” he asked quietly. 

Lance thought about it, and ended up shaking his head. It was too fresh on his mind. And the blood too warm on his face. 

Lance opened his mouth. “Is there-” Shakily, he pointed to his cheek, where he had felt Connor’s blood land. 

“O-Oh. Yeah, a little bit,” Hunk said. 

“Hang on,” Pidge added, and exited the room. 

She came back with a wet tissue, and a bottle of water for him. 

When Lance’s hand was too shaky to remove the blood himself, Hunk took the tissue in his hand and wiped it off for him. 

“I’m really sorry, Lance. I know, that um… Well, we know you had some feelings for Connor.” 

Lance felt like a deer in headlights. 

“U-Uh, what?” he simply asked. 

“It’s not rocket science,” Pidge said, and smiled slightly. 

“You never said it, but we kinda figured.”

Lance scoffed. “Yeah, well… Never would’ve happened anyway. He is straight as an arrow. Was.” 

“Still… He was a cool guy. This is… a beyond fucked up situation.” 

“Yeah, you can say that again.” 

They waited in the computer lab for several hours. They didn’t know what they were waiting for, but they couldn’t bail while there was so much happening on campus. Pidge got in touch with her brother, who was also in Boston. Apparently, he was friends with and worked at the same place as Keith’s brother, which was how Keith and Pidge knew each other before college. Both Matt and Shiro were unharmed, and they decided to meet up once it became safe to walk around. 

“I think numbers are important for a chance of surviving,” Pidge said. “I mean, we gotta fight back against them somehow. Like in the games and movies.”

“I dunno if this is like a game or movie, Pidge,” Hunk said nervously. 

“Well, what are we supposed to do? I have a feeling reasoning with them is a useless attempt. Can they even understand words? How does their brains work? Do they actually come back to life, after being killed? Do they still keep their conscience? The questions are endless! You’re a biologist, Lance, you must know something,” Pidge said, looking at Lance with big, hungry-for-knowledge eyes.

“First of all, not a biologist. I’m barely passing my classes. Second of all… I don’t know, Pidge. I have a massive headache right now, and I really don’t feel like thinking about this… Any of it,” Lance admitted. 

He was still hoping he would wake up in his bed. Realize it was all an insane dream that he could entertain his friends with. But he was starting to realize that it would be a lie. 

Lance looked at his phone. Should he try calling his family again? What if they don’t answer?  _ They won’t answer… _

His mind immediately went to the darkest place, jumping to conclusions. He could not bear it, if anyone in his family were harmed or dead he -  _ oh god-  _

“Um... Lance, right?” 

Lance looked up. Keith was staring at him. This time not really  _ glaring, _ per se, but it did make Lance squirm.

He only nodded, scared that if he opened his mouth he would scream or cry and just break down entirely. 

Keith shifted from foot to foot. “Uh, I just wanted to apologize, I guess. Some of the things I said were, um, insensitive. I’m genuinely sorry about your… friend.” 

Hearing Keith apologize was perhaps the last thing Lance had expected from him. 

“Thanks,” Lance mumbled. He really did appreciate it, but his head was still pounding. He took a sip of water. 

Keith was still standing there kind of awkwardly tapping his hand against his thigh. 

“So… Biologist, huh?” 

Lance cracked a smile. “Well… I don’t know. I was kinda hoping I could become a marine biologist one day, but… I don’t know if I have the brains.” 

“I sorta know what you mean. I tagged along with Pidge and Hunk, but they’re miles ahead of me. I don’t even know what I wanna be. But a marine biologist… Like, do you not get scared of the ocean?” Keith asked. “Because it’s like, wet… and vast. Really vast. And deep. With… creatures in it.” 

Lance laughed and shook his head. “I think that’s the beauty of it. I bet you prefer the desert.”

“I mean, at least it’s dry! And there’s oxygen everywhere. I consider that a plus.”

“I see your point, but I’ll have to politely disagree.”

“Well, I hear your polite disagreement, but I’ll have to respectfully dismiss your argument.” 

“I really wish you would’ve fought like that earlier instead,” Hunk chimed in. 

They both turned to him. “Don’t push it,” Keith whispered, to which Lance smiled wider. 

_ Okay, so perhaps Keith wasn’t a total asshole. For now.  _

They waited a bit longer, until they no longer heard screams, grunts and pained moaning. Eventually campus grounds had quieted, and while the occasional zombie shuffled around. It was as safe as it was gonna get. Their phones were fully charged, and who knew when electricity would go out, so they prepared for departure. They grabbed their backpacks. 

“We should get our hands on weapons. I think this is… Serious,” Pidge mumbled. 

The thought of possibly murdering someone else, zombie or not, was frightening. But if they wanted to survive, they had to be cautious. 

_ “Not _ guns,” Lance said. 

“Because finding guns on campus would be  _ so _ easy,” Keith teased. 

Lance ignored him. “Baseball bats. They always use that in the anime shows.” 

“Are there even baseball bats here?” Hunk asked nervously. 

“Gymnasium,” Lance said as if it was obvious. “Bet they have loads of stuff there. Last semester I was on the baseball team, so I remember where it’s stored.  _ In fact, _ I sucked so badly I was always the one getting equipment.” 

Pidge snickered. “Lead the way, then.”

Lance walked first, as they exited the computer lab. It was nighttime now, and the path was illuminated by street lamps. They walked slowly and quietly. 

“Do you think they can hear us? Or see us?” Hunk whispered.

“Let’s just assume they can do both,” Lance answered. 

The gymnasium was a huge, rectangular building. None of the lights were on, so from the looks of it, it seemed completely abandoned. 

“Hey, you don’t think we’re… The only ones alive here, right?” Pidge asked. 

Keith frowned. “I mean… Maybe people got out? Some could be hiding, like we did.” 

They approached the doors, and they opened easily. 

_ Phew. _

“I can’t see shit, how are we gonna be able to find stuff?” Lance said, staring into the darkness of the gymnasium. 

Pidge turned on a bright flashlight coming from her phone. 

“Technology, am I right?” she said. 

“Ok,  _ excuse  _ me for forgetting,” Lance whined. 

They turned on their flashlights, hoping and praying the zombies would not see them. 

The hall looked downright creepy in the dark.

Their flashlights did not reach all the way to the roof considering the gymnasium was huge and stretched widely. 

It almost felt like walking through fog, only being able to see what was right in front of you. 

Lance walked first, even if it made his skin crawl. 

Hunk closely followed him, clutching the hood of his sweatshirt. 

Lance stayed close to the wall, shining his flashlight towards the various doors they came across. 

_ Office _ , a plaque said. 

Not it. 

_ Male lockers.  _

Not it, either. Another day perhaps, preferably with the lights on and occupied by shirtless, sweating dudes. 

_ Equipment Storage. _

Yes! That was it-

Hunk abruptly stopped, and as he was pulling his hood, Lance choked against the sudden pressure, and managed to drop his phone. 

“What the fuck dude?!” Lance whispered hoarsely in between coughing. 

He bent down to pick up his phone, but stopped in his tracks. 

_ They weren’t alone.  _

Keith was holding his phone out, illuminating the corner just past the storage. 

There was a body on the ground. And two people were eating it. 

They were grunting and squelching, and blood and guts were scattered across the floor.

Lance gagged, and quickly covered his mouth. 

Oh, he did  _ not  _ want to throw up again. 

“They heard us,” Keith whispered, and he was fucking right, because they stopped eating the corpse, and started shuffling over in their direction. 

Hunk started whimpering. “What do we do, what do we do-” 

The others collectively shushed him. 

“Hang on.” Keith quickly opened his backpack, and pulled out a textbook. 

“If my theory is wrong, then we’re all dead,” he whispered, but before they could respond, Keith had thrown the book somewhere into the gymnasium. 

It landed with a thud that echoed through the hall, followed by complete silence. 

They all held their breaths, as the zombies turned their disgusting, rotting heads in the direction of the noise. 

Then they started walking. 

Lance did not waste a second, he picked up his phone and as quietly as possible, he opened the storage door. Once everyone was safely inside, he closed it, and slumped against it while letting out a relieved breath of air. 

His heart was  _ pounding.  _ “Textbooks are expensive Keith, I doubt you’re getting that back.” Lance said, almost embarrassed of how out of breath he sounded, despite not running at all. 

“I have the feeling I won’t need it back anytime soon.”

“Anyways… Now we’re trapped in here,” Pidge said quietly. 

Keith was looking through the equipment. 

“Well, at least we have something to defend ourselves with.” 

He rummaged through the back, and pulled out a hockey stick. “This looks familiar,” he said, and felt the weight of it in his hand. “It’s of good quality too.”

“You play hockey?” Lance asked.

“Used to, in high school.” 

Once Lance was back on his feet, he searched the room for baseball bats. He found a simple wooden one, and was content with it. If things were really going to shit, and they legitimately would have to fight to survive, then they needed better weapons, but for now, it would have to do. 

Pidge picked up a different type of bat, one that was flat. “What even is this?” she asked. 

“It’s for cricket, I think,” Keith answered. 

Pidge raised her shoulders. “It’ll have to do, I suppose.” 

Hunk started looking around too, but scrapped the idea of using sports equipment. He approached an exposed pipe that ran along the wall. 

Then he grabbed it, and tried ripping it loose. 

“Um, Hunk, what are you doing?” Lance asked. 

“I’m being innovative,” he said. 

“By damaging school property?” 

Keith laughed. “I say, fuck the system. Go for it.” 

“Dude, you could get hurt-” 

But before Lance could finish his warning, the pipe was torn off, followed with a mist of hot steam. Hunk yelped a little bit, but gave them a reassuring smile. 

The cloud of steam reached them, and Pidge’s glasses started fogging. 

“See, all good.” Hunk bounced the pipe in his hands. “Now nobody will wanna mess with me.” 

“As if you had beef with anyone,” Pidge mumbled, wiping her glasses. 

Once everyone was armed and ready, they had one more thing to do. 

And that was somehow escape fully intact. 

“So... Now what?” Lance asked. 

They all looked at each other in silence for a few seconds. 

“We… Go out with guns blazing?” Keith suggested. 

Nobody had a better idea. 

Lance tried swinging his bat a few times. He’d hitten a few baseballs before,  _ barely,  _ but hitting another person?  _ How?! _

They tried pumping each other up, acting like dudebros getting ready for the big game, but as soon as they opened the door again, they all fell quiet and carefully left the storage. 

The zombies were still there, in the gymnasium. 

But this time, they were covering their exit. 

“Shit,” Keith mumbled. He looked back at the others, who were expectantly glancing at him. 

“... What?” he whispered. 

“It’s just, you seemed so keen to, you know… Hulk smash,” Lance said, and Pidge and Hunk enthusiastically nodded. 

Keith looked defeated. “But they’re… What if…” 

_ What if they’re conscious, _ he probably thought. What if they’re still themselves? What if they’re still alive? What if they have morals, ethics, what if they feel pain? What if they can be fixed?

Lance exhaled slowly. “... Okay. Let’s try to go around them,” he whispered. 

Keith nodded, and started moving forward while keeping a tight grip around the hockey stick. There really was not much space to avoid them. They were  _ just _ in front of the doorframe.

Keith’s heart was beating rapidly as he approached the zombies. The others were closely behind him. 

The zombies stood still when they did not feed, it was as if they were sleeping while standing upright. But their eyes were open, the milky film was visible in the flashlight. It was clear that they could not see, or at least had a different type of vision, because they did not react to the flashlights at all. 

While it made it easier to escape, it probably also meant their other senses were twice as sharp. 

Sweat gathered at Keith’s forehead as he stood face to face with them. He was close enough to hear the quiet throaty sounds they made, a distorted sort of growling. 

They smelled like rot. Keith held his breath as he passed them, both to avoid the stench while also staying quiet. 

He slipped through the doorway. While he felt relief, he could not celebrate just yet. The others were still behind. Lance was next, Keith saw how his expression had paled as he approached the zombies. He looked like he was gonna be sick. 

And just as Lance was about to pass through the doorway, he suddenly made a grimace. His hand reached towards his mouth.

_ It was the stench.  _

Lance was about to- 

Keith could not even finish his thought as Lance gagged, nearly hurling into his hand. The sound itself was not particularly loud, but surrounded by complete silence, it became deafening. 

The zombies reacted immediately, they growled louder and they started moving, and Lance was  _ right there, _ just within arms reach, and Keith’s body started acting on its own. 

Using the hockey stick, Keith  _ slammed _ into the nearest zombie. Lance jumped backwards, instinctively holding up his bat like a shield. Keith was not sure where he had hit the zombie or if it did anything at all, so he kept bashing it with the blunt edge. Blood began splattering all over the floor, walls, and Keith himself. 

Hunk had started hitting the second zombie. With enough force, he managed to knock it down to the floor, and with closed eyes and a pained expression, Hunk began hitting its skull, and soon, it had completely stopped moving. 

The one Keith was hitting was still alive. It walked towards Keith, towards the source of what was trying to harm it. 

And all of a sudden it was uncomfortably close. Its fleshy hands reached for him, grabbed his jacket, and Keith tried jerking out of its grasp. It was incredibly stubborn, and Keith  _ needed _ to get away from it because he was starting to panic, so he kicked at its abdomen with all his might. 

The zombie flew back, and landed on the floor with a wet thud. And as soon as it was on the floor, Lance aimed his baseball bat at the head, and with a single swing he brought the bat down upon it. 

Brains and flesh and blood was scattered across the floor. 

They all let out a long sigh, and this time, it was Hunk who started retching.

Keith watched the mess they had made. They had just murdered the two fuckers. They can’t… They can’t still be present. If they were, they would not attack. They would fight the urge. 

Keith wasn’t sure if it sounded logical at all, or if he was just trying to justify the adrenaline coursing through his veins and the euphoric calm that had washed over him. 

“Pretty sure you just saved me, dude,” Lance said to Keith, as Hunk just finished throwing up in the corner. His voice was thin, and the baseball bat had dropped out of his shaky grip. 

“Well… That’s twice now. Or, three times, counting the book?” 

Lance scoffed. “You’re keeping  _ count? _ Really?”

Keith raised his shoulders. “Hey, I get it, you don’t feel capable enough to keep up with me.”

To that, Lance laughed sourly. “I’ll show you capable, Kogane. You’re on.” 

He gave Keith a cocky smirk, but it fell quickly. 

“But, uh… Thanks, anyway.” 

Keith smiled slightly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Pidge came walking towards them, but a rather nasty, squelching sound made her stop. She looked down. 

“Is that… Is that a spleen?” Lance asked. 

Pidge shuddered, and lifted her foot to shake it off.. “...  _ Ugh. _ We really did go guns blazing didn’t we…”

Hunk got back to his senses just in time to witness it, and immediately turned on his heels. 

“I’m gonna be sick again,” he muttered and groaned. 

And that was the start of their journey. The painful, bloody, grotesque journey into the destruction of their world as they knew it. But despite the dangers around every corner and death looming above them and their loved ones at every minute, somehow they became a team. And they were not going down just yet. 


	2. On The Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad decides to leave Boston for a small-town, hoping they can create a place to call home. However, it seems danger lurks behind every corner there as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new update! I'm slow with this, I'm aware, but it feels organic not to stress about it lmao. I also got a new idea I started writing, and I'm pretty into it! 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

“You should really sleep, Keith. It’s my watch after all,” Lance said. It was quiet too, in the forest. Lance had not heard a spreader or anything in a while. 

Keith grunted. 

“Couldn’t if I tried. Just one of those nights, y’know.” 

Lance nodded. “Yeah. I get it,” he said softly. He watched the candle next to him on the porch flicker in the wind. A chill went through his body and he shuddered. Summer was soon over. 

“You should wear more clothes,” Keith said. 

Lance looked at him in disbelief, and gestured towards Keith’s black t-shirt. “I’m wearing a jacket. You’re not.”

Keith just shrugged. “My blood runs hot. You however can’t handle anything.” 

Lance scoffed. Pfft,  _ his blood runs hot?!  _

He ripped his eyes away from Keith’s arms, which he had crossed, and suddenly had doubled in size. So what if Keith had gotten strong… Perhaps Lance was a tiny bit jealous, himself having sticks for arms. 

But that was  _ all.  _

“You seriously underestimate me,” Lance said, leaning backwards. 

Keith smirked and leaned back as well. 

“I’ll admit, I used to.”

“I cannot believe you actually admitted to it. Asshole Mullet.” 

Keith waved his hands defensively. “I’m being honest! You’ve come a long way though.” 

Lance sighed. “I thought you had as well… But then you  _ offend _ me and I remember what a meanie you are,” he said, smiling. 

“Dude, you love me,” Keith complained. 

Lance laughed, a little too loudly so he quickly shut his mouth. Leave it to him and Keith to attract literally all the spreaders of the area. 

“You wish. Man, you’ve gotten so cocky,” he whispered. 

“Doesn’t need to be a  _ bad  _ thing,” Keith said, shrugging. 

Lance tried suppressing a smile.  _ Maybe not.  _

The first months into the zombie crisis, they had still been fumbling around in the dark. It was perhaps the darkest months of their lives. It was during that point they realized that many,  _ most,  _ of their friends and family had died. In some cases they knew. In some cases they could only theorize. For the first month, they remained hopeful. Once they met up with Shiro and Matt, they made big plans for how they were to find their families again. 

It was a recklessly stupid plan. Their families were scattered all over the country, they would find cars, they would travel everywhere they could think of, gather all their loved ones and rebuild their communities, and… It was a fucking fairy tale. 

“It’s a coping mechanism,” Shiro had said. He would know. Keith would know. They had coped the same way, losing their father at a young age. You’re always in denial at first.

And with time, the others came to realize this as well. Eventually, Pidge and Matt gave up their frantic experiments and quest for clues to where their parents could be. Hunk tried desperately coming into contact with his family, but as time went on, any form of communication became difficult. Phone lines went down. Power went out. Without humanity to keep the world spinning, it simply… Stopped. 

Lance, who had only heard from Veronica, never heard from her or anyone else again. New York was close. They could’ve gone there to look for her, but every attempt Lance made at convincing the others to go, was shut down. 

_ Any city was extremely dangerous to visit, but New York would be hell on earth, _ they said. 

And for every day of radio silence that passed, Lance felt like he was letting Veronica and his family down, over and over.

Leaving them to rot. 

A couple days into November, the group had finally made somewhat of a plan. 

Step 1. Get proper weapons. 

Step 2. Get a car, gas and provisions. 

Step 3. Get out of Boston. 

Step 4. Locate a rural area to make their own, somewhere they could stay protected. 

Step 5. Survive. 

With some careful planning, they somehow managed to complete the first three steps. They already had two handguns they had obtained before, with one silencer. But they needed better melee weapons, just from their weeks of observing and nearly dying, it was clear that loud pistols would become their worst enemy. So, they looted a hunting store. It was already pretty empty, of course everyone had the same idea. But they got their hands on knives, switchblades, a couple of axes, a machete, a hunting rifle, a recurve and a crossbow. When Lance saw the recurve bow in the store it called out his name. He  _ knew _ how to use that. He had felt so useless and pathetic, feeling like he would have no chance against a zombie. But now, there was a glimmer of hope. 

So they stocked up on weapons, and Matt got his hands on a functioning van. Gas was limited, but they had enough to at least get out of Boston, plus some for an emergency situation. The van could fit all of them, and their small amount of items. They managed to stock up on some food in storage, but not early enough to survive for weeks. So while they needed to be somewhere remote, they also had to be in the vicinity of houses, grocery stores and a pharmacy. 

They left Boston behind and started driving, until they reached the small town of West Brookfield. 

“This is a ghost town,” Hunk said and started shuddering. “I don’t like this.” 

The fallen brown leaves fluttered in the howling wind as they drove past. The road followed a river, and once they ended up in denser neighbourhoods, Shiro slowed the car. 

“It’s safer than the city,” he said. 

“So what do we do? Find a house?” Pidge asked. 

When movement caught the corner of his eye, Shiro turned the car around. A few zombies shuffled towards the road.

“Guess not even a small town like this could avoid the apocalypse,” Lance mumbled.

Shiro started driving back the way they came, and made a left. The smaller road took them further out into the forest. 

“I think it should be around here somewhere,” Shiro said. 

“Wait, what are you looking for?”

Shiro took another left, and the road was no longer asphalt, but gravel.

“A campsite. I think I went to summer camp here, once. I was a kid so it was a long time ago, but I think I remember some cabins.” 

Lance whined. “Oh yeah that sounds like a great idea, if the zombies don’t kill us maybe Jason Voorhees will.” 

Keith snickered. “Coward.” 

“Shut it, Mullet.” 

The rest of the drive was bumpy, the car shook as they crossed the bumps and potholes in the road. But soon, after ten minutes of driving, they did find a campsite. It seemed completely abandoned too. There were no cars, no signs of either the living or the dead. Shiro parked the van, and they started exploring. 

There was a larger building in the middle of camp, surrounded by smaller brown cabins. The windows were dark, and the leaves crunched underneath their feet as they walked. The only sounds they could hear were some birds from the forest. 

The atmosphere was eerie, and Lance definitely had the creeps. 

Matt walked up to one of the cabins, and turned the handle. The door was locked. 

“You think there are keys anywhere? Would save us the trouble of picking these locks or breaking doors down,” he said. 

“Probably in the main house. Let’s search for it,” Shiro answered. 

Some of them walked up to the larger building. The front door was also locked. 

Before anyone even tried to somehow break it open, Keith had grabbed a large rock, and threw it at a nearby window. It immediately shattered, the piercing sound sending shivers down everybody’s spine. 

“What the fuck, dude!” Lance yelled, half-whispering. 

That sound would alert every single zombie in their vicinity. 

“Now we have a way inside, plus, if there are zombies here, at least now we’ll know. Then we can bounce.” 

The logic inside Keith’s head just did not make any sense at all to Lance sometimes. 

“That  _ was _ a bit rash of you, Keith,” Shiro scolded, and Keith rolled his eyes. “What if it didn’t break and ricocheted? Hit you in the face instead?” 

Lance laughed snarkily. “We wouldn’t be so lucky.” 

“OH. MY. GOD. I am  _ literally _ just helping you guys out,” Keith said, throwing his hands up. He covered his hand with his jacket, and started cleaning out the leftover glass shards. Once the window was completely empty, he climbed inside. 

Within seconds, they heard the front door unlock, and Keith opened it.

“You’re welcome,” he said, looking rather sarcastically at Lance, who just crossed his arms in return. 

“Quick thinking, Keith. Now there will be a draft, though,” he mumbled as he passed him and walked inside. 

He ignored Keith’s annoying remarks, and started searching for keys and other supplies along with the others.  They found them, sure enough. They were on the wall just past the reception, each key with a different number. 

“So, how do we do this? Everybody gets their own cabin?” Matt asked.

“I am  _ not _ sleeping alone!” Lance announced loudly and crossed his arms. He would not be able to sleep at night at all. Besides, he had gotten used to hearing the others snore next to him. Lying awake at night in complete silence except for mysterious animal sounds would make him shit his pants. 

Hunk raised his arm. “I second that.”

Shiro nodded. “Perhaps it’s the safest to stay together. We’ll pair up.”

Hunk paired up with Lance, Pidge with Matt, and Keith with Shiro. They chose cabins that were close to each other, and that seemed to be in an alright shape. Besides a small layer of dust, the rooms appeared tidied. The camp had probably not been in use since the summer, since before the outbreak. And it would probably not be used again. 

Once they were settled in, the sun was already going down. It was getting colder during night, they saw the condensation in the air from their breathing. Despite the camp being beyond creepy in Lance’s opinion, at least they found a place that seemed relatively safe. 

There was a small lake right by the camp, so they decided to light a fire and cook dinner there. It was comforting looking at the flames dance as it warmed their bodies. And even though Boston had nearly been wiped out, it still had felt so noisy and busy. But right there by the forest and the lake, it only felt incredibly peaceful. It was as if they had been holding their breaths for months, straining their minds and their bodies and finally, they could just… breathe. 

“How are you guys feeling about beans? In true summer camp fashion?” Hunk asked. Naturally, he wished they could make an extravagant meal rich with taste, but their resources were limited. 

“You know what? That sounds awesome. I could eat anything right now,” Shiro said, and his stomach immediately growled in agreement. The others felt the same way too. It had been a long day, hell it had been a long month full of planning and risk-taking and surviving. Rarely did any moment of eating or relaxing,  _ truly _ feel like a break.

“So. Do you remember anything else from your summer camp?” Lance asked, looking at Shiro, after everyone was full and enjoying the warmth from the embers of the fire. 

Shiro hummed. “Not a lot. I was so young. Keith was probably a baby,” he said, smiling to Keith who scoffed.  “Must’ve been a scout thing. We looked at bugs and plants and animals, learned how to use a map and compass. At night we had bonfires and made s’mores.” 

“Oh, s’mores!” Hunk exclaimed, swooning at the thought. 

“I think I liked summer camp. But, I only stayed there one summer. I had to take care of Keith of course.” Shiro smiled fondly at him, and Keith stared into the dirt, cutting circles into it with a branch. 

“I guess this is your opportunity to relive your scouting days. I’m not much of an outdoorsman myself. Nor Katie, for that matter,” Matt said. 

“Yep,” Pidge said, simply. “Juuust sitting here makes me feel icky.”

The atmosphere was light as the embers slowly died. The sky had turned pitch black, night was upon them. After a long, exhausting day, they retreated to their cabins. 

Despite the late hour, Shiro and Keith’s cabin was still lit with both brothers lying awake. 

Shiro was reading a novel he’d read a hundred times already, and Keith was on his back staring into the ceiling. 

The candle on Keith’s end table flickered, creating shadows dancing across the wooden planks and beams. 

“Hey, Keith?” Shiro asked, putting his book down. 

“Hm?” 

“How have you been holding up?” 

Keith looked over at Shiro across the room while frowning. “What do you mean?”

Shiro gestured to the air. “You know, with everything going on. We haven’t really talked in depth about it-” 

“Shiro, I’m fine.” 

Shrio kept looking at him, expecting more. 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Seriously. It’s not like life was much better before. At least this is a change of pace.” 

“... Well, everybody’s going through a rough patch right now. The others are grieving over losses, and maybe seeing that can remind you of…”

He did not have to utter the rest of the sentence, yet the words were hanging in the air like bold, red letters. 

Keith turned towards the wall, shutting Shiro off. “It’s been years. I’m over it.”

Shiro sighed. “Okay, then.” 

He extinguished the candle, and tucked himself into bed. 

Keith’s candle still flickered, creating shadows on the wall. Shadows that you could mistake for ghosts. And perhaps somewhere in the darkness, you saw familiar faces. 

Later in the night, in a different cabin, Lance was also seeing ghosts. 

He was back in Boston, on campus. He was attending a lecture, absent-mindedly scribbling in his notebook. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and when Lance turned around, Connor’s half-eaten, bloody face was staring at him with milky eyes. When Lance turned around again, facing the rest of the class, they were all looking at him with the same eyes. He recognized some of them as his own family. 

He woke up in a pool of his own sweat, as he had many times before.

His breathing was quick and heavy, heart hammering in his chest.

Once he calmed down, he squinted into the room and saw Hunk still sleeping soundly. He had no idea what time it was. The sky was dark, but not entirely. Perhaps dawn was not too far away. 

No use of trying to sleep again. Whenever Lance had nightmares, it always ended up being a lost cause. 

He quietly got out of bed, tip-toeing towards the door. Wearing sweatpants and a jacket, he slipped into his shoes. Before exiting the cabin, he grabbed the recurve bow and the quiver of arrows resting against the wall. 

Once outside, the air was biting. 

Winter really was right around the corner now. 

Lance did not stay still for long. While waiting for the sky to lighten, he decided to try creating a target. 

He did not need much, cardboard would do just fine. Entering the reception, he found a marker and duct tape in a drawer. 

Looking around for trash, he eventually found some cardboard and styrofoam he could cut up. Once he had shaped the target, he just needed to draw it. 

At first he was planning to make a traditional target of circles. But then he remembered, the reason he would be shooting was not just for fun anymore. He would be aiming to kill. 

So he drew a head. And wrote “Keith” over it, just to make it a  _ little _ fun. 

He found a nice clearing in the forest not too far from the cabins, and put up the target there. And while the target was ugly as fuck, at least it was sturdy and functional.

His bow was simple and wooden, and bigger than the one he practiced with as a teenager. Yet, it felt familiar in his grasp. He strung the bow, transforming it into it’s unyielding true form. This would be the first time he practiced with it. He knew that eventually he would have to use it against someone. Some _ thing.  _

Lance could not think of the zombies as living, human-beings. Fact is, they were not. They were dead. Lance had seen his fair share of death by now, there was no way anyone would survive an attack. Once you got bit, it was over. There was no consciousness left. At least, Lance had to think that way, because if he did not, he would not be able to do what was necessary in order to survive. 

He took a deep breath, and let the crisp morning air fill his lungs. The sun was already rising, painting the sky a soft shade of orange. The trees danced around him in the slight breeze, and he thought he could hear a woodpecker hacking away somewhere deep within the forest. It was a calming, atmospheric scene; something Lance definitely had needed after his disturbing dream.

After he found his inner peace, Lance positioned himself a good distance from the target. He picked up a lean arrow made of carbon, and nocked it. Excitement started to bubble up in him, it almost felt like he was a kid again just learning how to shoot. Lance drew the string back, feeling the power of it resist his pull. Holding it too long would turn his arm into jelly, so without wasting time, Lance aimed at the minimalist caricature of Keith. 

He let the arrow fly, and… It hit the tree trunk next to the target. 

_ Oops.  _

It vibrated slightly, and Lance winced at the thought of pulling it out of the tree. Yup, leave it up to him to break his brand new, freshly looted, top-notch quality carbon arrows on their first use. 

Lance really had no choice but to actually hit the target if he wanted to keep the arrows intact. 

With that as motivation, Lance picked up another arrow. This time, he aimed slightly to the left. 

The arrow hit the target. But, it did not hit the head itself. 

Lance let out a concentrated breath.  _ Well, we can work with that.  _

“Third time’s the charm,” he mumbled. 

The third arrow was nocked, and ready to go. Lance adjusted his aim to further left again, and also a little bit up. 

Before Lance released the arrow, he had not expected to  _ actually _ get a bullseye. He had not practiced in a year, and this was a new bow he was not used to, a new setting and a new target, so really who could blame him for missing a few shots?

But when Lance let go of the string, it just  _ felt _ right. His posture was good, there were no complications with the release, it was just one of those shots that felt perfect, no matter where they ultimately landed. 

This time however, the arrow hit the amateur drawing, smack-down in the middle of it. 

The adrenaline and glee rushed over him, making him grin like an idiot, when suddenly a whistle caught his attention. 

Lance whipped his head around. 

Leaned against a tree, was none other than Keith. 

“Not bad, not bad,” Keith said, looking unbothered. He was dressed in a red wind-breaker, with his shaggy hair sticking out everywhere. 

Lance realized he probably looked just as shaggy. 

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, suddenly feeling like his privacy had been invaded. 

“Caught the whole show,” Keith smirked. “That target, though… Not impressed.” 

Several things went through Lance’s mind. One, Keith had just been staring at him for a long while when Lance thought he was  _ completely _ alone. Two, Keith had been watching him shoot against a target literally named after him, and even though Keith was an asshole it still felt weird being caught “pretend”-shooting at him. And three, there was this particular lock of hair Keith had that made an  _ obscene _ curl, and - it’s not important.  _ Not important at all, Lance. _

“Well. I thought imagining your face would be a great motivator,” Lance said, trying to somehow sound like he was joking and being mean at the same time. In the end, the sentence didn’t sound like either of those options, and it made Lance’s cheeks burn. 

“In that case, I’m happy to help,” Keith said monotonously. 

While stomping his way over to the target to collect his arrows, Lance desperately tried changing the topic. “Why aren’t you sleeping anyway? It’s barely morning,” he said, while pulling at the arrow stuck into the tree trunk. 

It took a great deal of effort and wiggling, but eventually Lance got it out, and it was still whole. Well, the tip was a  _ little _ bit dented. Stupid tree trunk. 

“I should ask you the same,” Keith answered. 

Lance scowled.  _ Seriously? _

“Woke up, couldn’t sleep,” he said, and smiled sourly at Keith. “You?” 

Keith rubbed the back of his head. “Same.” 

“Great! Now, if you would like to be on your merry way so I can practice in peace, that would be fantastic. Unless, you’d like to… Prove your worth?” Lance said, holding out the bow towards Keith. 

Keith had not embarrassed Lance like that without expecting anything in return. And watching Keith squirm trying to one-up Lance in an arena he was familiar with… Now that was something Lance could get behind. 

But, instead of taking on the challenge, Keith shied away. “Yeahhhh, I don’t know if I should use that thing. Might end up shooting you instead, who knows.” 

Lance rolled his eyes. “Coward-”

“However!” Keith interrupted. He reached into the pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a switchblade. Lance nearly jumped as the blade popped up. 

“I can use this.” 

Keith lined himself up in front of the target, with the same distance as Lance. He squinted as he held the knife in his hand, swinging his hand back and forth aiming towards it.

He threw the knife and it rotated through the air until it hit directly in the middle, close to the small indent from Lance’s arrow. 

Lance crossed his arms. “Alright, show-off.” 

“Dude,  _ you _ challenged  _ me. _ I’m just keeping up.”

Lance smirked. “How does it feel knowing you just impaled yourself in the face?” 

Keith raised his shoulders. “I don’t think the voodoo-thing you were trying to pull worked, I feel fine.” 

“Hm. Maybe I should’ve made it uglier,” Lance mumbled, causing Keith to snort.

They stared at the blob of uneven lines resembling a face that looked as if a three-year old drew it. 

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s possible, Lance.” 

The duo kept practicing in the clearing for a while, until the rest of the camp started waking up. They then quickly ate breakfast, before making a plan for the day. The most important thing they needed to get done, was get supplies.

Despite wanting to spare as much gas as possible, they decided to take the car. They remained hopeful that it would pay off. It was after all a small town, and just maybe it meant stores and houses had not been completely looted. 

“Looting won’t be sustainable in the long run. Everything will be gone in a couple of months. We’ll need to hunt, and once spring comes around, grow our own produce,” Matt said as they drove towards town. 

“Will we stay here? … For that long?” Pidge asked. 

“We should, until it’s not safe anymore,” Shiro answered.

An uncomfortably familiar feeling arose in Lance’s gut. It was that lingering void, one that made him feel displaced and estranged. It was the realization that kept hitting him, over and over again, that he would never go home. Home was no longer something physical, nor was it the people he had called home for his 21 years of life on this earth. He just had to accept that he would perhaps never go to California again, or see his family. He told himself that so many times, yet… It still hurt to think about. 

“You okay, buddy?” Hunk asked, sitting beside him. Lance had been staring out the window, obviously letting his mind wander. 

“Yeah… just... “

He sighed.

“Doesn’t really feel like home does it?” he said. 

By the solemn atmosphere that filled the car like poison, it was clear Lance was not the only one who felt that way.

But, Hunk being the ray of sunshine that he was, changed things around. “I say that we - I know supplies come first, but hear me out - perhaps find something nice, y’know? Once December comes around we could decorate for christmas. There are  _ so _ many pine trees here we could decorate.” 

Lance smiled. “That’s true.” 

“I suppose we got space in the van for a few extra things. We can put Keith on the roof,” Shiro said, causing them to roar with laughter. 

Keith scoffed. “How kind.”

As the car rolled through the hauntingly quiet streets of West Brookfield, they peered through the windows looking for any suspicious activity. They did see some stray zombies lurking about, but no packs of them. 

“There’s a pharmacy over there,” Matt pointed, and Shiro parked next to it. They decided to split into smaller groups, some going to get pharmaceuticals, some looking for groceries, and some getting gas and other essentials. 

“Make sure you have a weapon with you, don’t use guns unless necessary. And if you can, avoid them. We’re only rookies, and we shouldn’t risk killing them unless we’re completely confident or have no other choice,” Shiro said, grabbing an axe for himself.

Matt and Hunk went into the pharmacy, and Shiro and Pidge entered a nearby grocery store. Keith and Lance, being the fastest out of the group, were sent on gas duty. 

“You didn’t bring your bow,” Keith observed as they walked briskly towards a gas station each with a can in hand. 

Instead, Lance had grabbed a hunting knife, and strapped it to his belt. He was not experienced with guns, and while the knife seemed puny next to Keith’s machete, it was a small comfort. 

“I’ve never shot at anything except a target. And honestly, if you were grabbed by a zombie and I had to aim at it to kill it… I might hit you instead. I couldn’t take that risk.” 

Keith nodded. “Still. You’re a good shot. I know a person, uh, zombie, is different from a target but… I’m sure when the situation comes, you’d come in clutch. Unless you hate me too much,” he said, and laughed. 

Lance smiled. “I don’t hate you.”

It was not intended to sound so soft, so Lance quickly corrected himself. “I mean, you’re an asshole though.” 

“And you’re stuck-up.” 

The words did not bite the way they did when they first met, instead they could not help their smiles widening. 

They reached the gas station. There were a few abandoned cars around, some wrecked and others whole. A loose banner flapped in the slight breeze, and the pavement was filled with dead leaves that crunched beneath their feet. The inside of the building seemed dark, yet the door was ajar, and a window had been broken.

“Alright, I’ll get to work on the gas tanks, and you’ll check these cars?” Keith suggested. 

Lance nodded. 

“Call out if there’s anything.” 

Keith started breaking down the mechanics of the fuel pump, already making a ruckus. It couldn’t be helped, but it meant they had to be quick, or else all the zombies in their vicinity would show up. 

Lance pulled out a hose from a gym bag he brought, and started siphoning gas from the cars. He tried to do it in a controlled and relatively safe manner, and sometimes he managed to build up enough pressure for the gas to flow freely from the cars into the tank. Other times he had to suck it out, without inhaling any of it. 

After fifteen minutes, the can was over half-full and Lance was feeling lightheaded. He walked over to Keith, who had managed to nearly fill the entire can, with a little more to go.

“Should we check inside? There might be something useful,” Lance said, looking through the windows into the darkened shop. 

“Yeah, go ahead. Be careful.” 

As the door was already open, Lance simply walked straight in. He tried to be quiet, but when he didn’t watch his footing and accidentally stepped in glass shards, he silently cursed. 

But, nothing happened. There were no sounds, except for the wind blowing through the broken window. 

The store was quite empty, as others must’ve looted it before them. Probably people on the run, momentarily stopping while trying to get as far away from danger as possible. Lance could imagine what it would’ve been like on the day the outbreak happened. People shoving down others, to save themselves. Grabbing everything they laid their eyes upon in panic. Killing each other, in fear of dying themselves. 

They had witnessed it before, in Boston. Not all of humanity acted in solidarity, when they found themselves in a crisis. Because of this, the group had tried to stay lowkey. Humans meant danger, most of the time. A tight-knit pack was easier to trust.

Lance shoved stale chips into the bag, along with some bottles of water. He found a single first-aid kit, a small toolkit, flashlights and batteries. He even brought some random magazines, because entertainment was just as important as survival these days. By the register, he picked up a bunch of air fresheners meant for cars, but Lance decided they would look nice as christmas tree ornaments. Sure, some of them had ridiculous slogans and some were shaped like the silhouette of a mechanic with big tits, but weren’t the best christmas trees always a bit tacky? 

By the weight of his bag, Lance was happy with his haul, and exited the building. He saw that Keith had just finished filling both of the cans to the brim, and was screwing the caps back on. 

Lance was about to tell him about the treasures he found, when a deep rumble made him stop in his tracks. 

He thought it was an earthquake at first, as he felt the ground nearly vibrate. Then he saw movement. 

It looked like a swarm of flies coming closer. But they were not flies. It was a horde of zombies. And just a couple paces away, were the prey the zombies were chasing. 

It was three people, seemingly humans. A young man and woman, and a slightly older man. 

And they were coming straight for Keith and Lance. 

“K-Keith,” Lance warned, pointing towards the swarm. 

Keith followed his gaze. 

It took only a second, before he was on his feet and already running along with Lance towards the car. 

“We have to help them!” Lance yelled. 

Keith looked behind them. 

“We’ll be dead!” 

Lance looked back at the people running. They were a little closer now, and it looked as if they would collapse at any second. Their eyes were wide and terrified, yet they did not stop running.

They were survivors, just like them. 

Lance could not leave them behind. 

“You’re fastest, warn the others! Start up the car!” Lance commanded. 

Keith looked at him with bewildered eyes. “Lance?! No-”

“RUN, KEITH!” 

Lance shoved at him, boosting him further ahead. They did not have time to argue. Keith pushed himself further, running faster. He knew that if the others were not warned in time, they would at best be trapped there, and at worst, die a terrible death. 

Lance momentarily stopped, looking at the runners. 

“COME ON!” he yelled. They looked so in pain. The older man was clutching his leg, and as they got closer, Lance could see that he was bleeding. 

For a split second, Lance looked at Keith who was already far away. 

_ Good.  _

From his short break, Lance saved enough energy to help the runners once they caught up with them. 

“Keep going!” Lance encouraged, and immediately supported the limping man. 

“Th-Thanks,” he uttered weakly. 

“Shh, no talking, just run! We have a car further ahead, we can get to safety!” 

It was much harder than he had anticipated, running with a full gym bag on his back, a five-gallon can in his right hand, and supporting a grown man with his left hand. 

Yet, there was no other option than to keep running. 

Lance thought about his family. Of the tiniest chance, of somehow meeting them again. He could not give up his life when that was still a possibility, no matter how small. 

His vision was starting to swim, yet he saw the familiar burgundy color of the van in the distance. Was it Keith’s black hair he saw? He was just reaching it. Hunk was there too. 

“We’re almost there!” Lance shouted, and looked at the others. The older man, who had ginger hair and a thick moustache, was pale and wincing in pain. The woman was determined however. Her silver ponytail was swaying as she ran, and she was sweating and clearly struggling, but Lance could tell she was strong. The other man was strong too. He was tall, and Lance thought he saw dog tags around his neck, which meant he was, or had been, in the military. 

Lance was almost embarrassed, already sweating feeling like his lungs were empty and lit on fire, yet these people had probably been running for ages already. 

Behind them, the zombies got closer by the second. If any of them tripped or stopped now, it would be instantly over. 

Lance focused on the car. People were getting in it. Lance’s heart was pounding so harshly it deafened all sounds around him, yet he thought he heard the motor turning on. At least the lights shined brightly, like beacons guiding them home. 

The man Lance supported tripped slightly, and Lance tightened his grip. He had lost feeling in his right arm, and he prayed that he had not dropped the can along the way. 

“Stay with me!” Lance yelled, both telling the others but also himself. 

They were getting closer now, and Lance started hearing the voices of his friends shouting to them. 

He kept pushing, closing his eyes, forcing his feet to move. 

It was only when he felt himself collapse into someone else’s arms, that he realized they had reached the car.

It was just a big blur. Everyone was shouting and screaming, Lance felt himself be thrown into the van. It immediately started moving and the tires screeched against the asphalt as Shiro started driving. 

Lance could barely see, the exhaustion from the running finally fully caught up with him, and before he knew it, he blacked out. 

He started waking up to the lull of the car moving across gravel, and the sound of someone throwing up. 

The first thing Lance saw was the man with the moustache leaning out an open window, retching his lungs out. 

_ Oof, that’s rough.  _

Lance was lying down he realized, his head was elevated on something soft, yet firm. When Lance’s attention turned up, he was looking straight into Keith’s face, whose mouth was agape and brows furrowed. 

“H-Hey,” Lance said, his voice hoarse. He blinked several times, trying to focus his gaze. 

“You’re fucking  _ insane,  _ and a god damn idiot. Are you alright?” 

Lance groaned in reply. He tried sitting up, but his bones screamed with every movement.

Keith sighed. “Just… Relax.” 

“Am I… on your lap?” Lance asked. 

Keith’s cheeks immediately darkened. “Y-You passed out and fell over! I couldn’t just  _ move  _ you! You’re like, dying or whatever…”

Whether it was the absurdity of the situation or the physical impact the sprint had done on him, Lance could not help the laughter forcing itself out of him.

And after a bit, he felt Keith’s limbs underneath him wobble with laughter too. 

Eventually Lance’s head was starting to clear up, and he managed to sit up. The back of the van was completely packed. He had apparently just been yeeted into the trunk along with the rest of the sprinters. 

Hunk and Pidge were sitting in the row in front of them, occasionally looking back checking on them. 

“Well, here we are,” Shiro said, pulling into the camp. “It’s pretty safe. No zombies so far. Unless that pack back there is still following us.” 

The silver-haired woman made a weary grunt. “I guess time will tell.” 

Lance looked at them properly. They seemed even worse for wear than him. The military guy was half laying down, half sitting up while clutching his temple. The moustache man was no longer heaving out the window anymore, but now he looked so exhausted Lance wasn’t sure if he was passed out or not. His leg had been bandaged, but blood was already seeping into it. And the lady, while she managed to sit upright and be somewhat present, her dark skin was shining with sweat and from the way her lashes fluttered, she was close to passing out too. 

She looked over at Lance, and the brightness of her blue eyes nearly threw him back. 

“You saved us back there,” she said. “You could’ve gone down with us.”

Lance raised his shoulder. “That  _ could’ve _ happened. It didn’t. You needed help, we couldn’t just… watch.” 

The woman frowned. “Why? In the situation we’re in, it’s every man for himself.” 

Her reasoning dumbfounded Lance. Is this really what the world had turned into? Someplace cold, where the few people alive could neither trust, nor help each other? 

“It’s the right thing to do,” Lance shrugged. 

The corner of her mouth twitched, and she nodded towards Keith. 

“He’s certainly right. You are an idiot. Doing the right thing will get you killed. But… Thank you. Truly.” Her expression was sincere. And even though she both insulted and thanked him in the same breath, her words left a warm feeling in Lance’s chest. 

The two groups quickly introduced themselves, before immediately finding them cabins for them to rest up, something they sorely needed. They would get to know each other the next morning.

The sun was already going down by the time Shiro, Keith, Hunk, Pidge, Matt and Lance had gathered in the common room for a meal. It wasn’t much, mostly consisting of cereal and granola bars, but their first full day in town had turned out to be quite eventful, and they were tired. 

Lance was sleepily munching on a granola bar, yearning for the softness of his bed. “I’m glad we picked them up,” he mumbled. 

Shiro nodded. “I agree. However… We know nothing about them. And from the conversation in the car, they seem wary of us too. We’ve been so cut off from other humans for months now, and we can’t assume everyone has good intentions.”

“They could become good assets to our group, though. We caught them in a pinch, but honestly, they seem like survivors,” Hunk said. 

“We should give them a chance. I don’t think they would try to hurt us, not when we brought them to safety,” Matt said, deep in thought.

Once they were done eating, they decided to call it a night early. Shiro and Matt would stay up for longer, keeping watch and making sure nothing followed them. 

Lance was almost stumbling towards his cabin, the exhaustion from both a sleepless night and physical tear creeping up on him. 

“Hey Lance,” someone called out. 

Lance turned, and saw Keith jogging up to his side. 

“Whatever you have to say, say it fast, ‘m tired,” Lance mumbled with a yawn. 

Keith smiled. “Understandable.” 

His smile gradually fell, as the gears were working in his brain, figuring out what to say. 

“I…” He swallowed heavily. “I felt a bit bad for leaving you. Uh.. A lot bad.”

Lance’s ears perked up. “You did what I told you to.” 

Keith sighed. “Still, I… I know it went well, but that could’ve gone so badly, and it would’ve been my fault for abandoning you-” 

“No. If you hadn’t warned them in time,  _ all _ of us would be dead.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Lance interrupted. “I’m still alive, Keith” 

A smirk crept onto his face slowly. “But I mean, I can’t believe you care  _ that _ much for me, that the mere thoughts of leaving me behind fills you with insufferable, crippling guilt-”

“LANCE,” Keith warned, cutting off his dramatics. 

Lance shrugged. “I know you’ve made it a habit to save my ass sometimes, but y’know, I can handle myself. Just saying.” 

Keith nodded. “That’s… True. You did well back there.” 

“Alrighty, Lance’s confession booth is closed for the day. If your mind is still not guilt free, come back during working hours,” Lance declared, and Keith laughed. 

“Okay. You have a good night, Lance.” 

“You too. Maybe get some sleep for once, I don’t wanna see you on the range at five in the morning,” Lance answered, smiling to Keith. 

“I’ll try.” 

As Lance entered his cabin, he immediately slumped into bed, fully clothed and all. As he slowly drifted into sleep, he thought of warm summers, cliff-diving and family barbeques. Of chatty nights, endlessly talking with his siblings until sunrise. Of old friends, high-school parties and camping trips. 

The warm thoughts seemed so nice, so strong that one might be fooled into thinking that perhaps the nightmares would be kept at bay, if only for a single night. 

But, the nightmares prevailed, as old memories and faces of loved ones morphed into newer terrors, fresher on Lance’s mind. Soon, he was running for his life, legs stumbling and aching as he ran away from the thousands of milky eyes, some belonging to his own family and friends. And the dream felt so real, the pain extending from his legs until it reached his chest, being replaced with another type of hurt. 

The hurt of loss. 


End file.
